18. Peace…or not

Crow let herself breathe.

For the first time since she’d come back from the Reliquary, she finally felt like she wasn’t on edge. Her anxiety had actually… faded. Just a little. Enough to let herself feel the tiniest flicker of pride as Myra hugged her gift and Garran marveled at his. Enough to think, maybe, they didn’t hate her after all.

The moment didn’t last.

Heavy boots approached behind her. Crow stiffened instantly, every muscle tightening before she even looked up.

Kael.

He stopped at the table, balancing a tray stacked with food. “What the hell are you whispering about?” he asked, suspicious, then shoved the tray toward her.

She blinked. “What—”

He didn’t wait. He dropped onto the bench beside her, back to the table, legs sprawled out like he owned the entire guild hall. “You’re eating. All of it. Or I’m force-feeding it to you. You’re not going into the labyrinth running on a rage and a tea biscuit.”

Crow stared at the tray, then back at him. “Ah. I see now,” she said flatly. “I’ve died. That’s why everything’s going so well.”

Rowan laughed.

Kael didn’t. “Just fucking eat.”

She swallowed hard. Her fingers twitched, hovering over the edge of the tray.

She didn’t move.

For a long moment, she sat frozen, battling with the part of herself that said she didn’t deserve this. Not the food. Not the gifts. Not the moment of peace. Not when she still hadn’t earned her place here.

“If you don’t pick up that damn fork, I swear to god—” Kael growled.

Crow flinched, then finally picked it up. She moved slowly. She had learned that eating too fast would cause her to vomit. And the thought of puking in front of them made her want to vanish into the floor.

Kael watched her eat in silence, which was somehow worse.

“Stop staring at me,” she muttered after a minute, shifting her body so her back was to him. “It’s making me nervous.”

He didn’t answer right away. Then, his voice came low, just loud enough for their group to hear.

“When’s the last time your dumbass had a real meal?”

She tensed. Didn’t answer.

He didn’t wait. “A real meal. Not just enough to keep you going.”

“I ate with Myra last week,” she said quietly.

Stolen novel; please report.

“So last week, then.” He stared at her.

She kept her head down.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“I just woke up not too long ago,” she mumbled, shoving food around on her plate.

“Fainting, passing out, closing your eyes for ten minutes at a time? That’s not sleep.”

Crow’s hands clenched.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my personal business?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He glared at her. “Because we’re about to go on a quest in a labyrinth that’s killing more people than usual. I am not getting killed because you think it’s quirky not to sleep.”

Her chest went tight.

Quirky?

He—he’d seriously think she’d choose this? That she want to be this way? Her hands shook.

Of course.

Of course, he wasn’t actually being nice. That would’ve been too easy.

Rowan’s voice broke in, sharp. “Kiki, look—she’s not just staying awake because she can. Just drop it. She’s already agreed to sleep before we head out.”

Kael opened his mouth to argue, but Myra shook her head at him. Just once. A quiet warning.

He clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything else.

Crow didn’t say much after that. Just kept eating, fork slow and mechanical, like every bite took effort.

Eventually, she stood up. “I’m… going to rest. Like I said, I would.”

Myra gave her a small smile. Rowan gave her space.

But as she turned toward the stairs, Kael followed.

“Oi.”

She paused halfway up. Her heart dropped.

He caught up, not in a rush. Just deliberate.

“Walk with me,” he said. Not asked—said. Then veered off down a side hall.

Crow hesitated. Then followed.

They stopped in a quieter corridor near the east wing, tucked between unused rooms and dusty supply crates. Her back was already pressed to the wall before she realized it, shoulders curled in like she could hide her heartbeat.

Kael crossed his arms. His voice was low. Serious.

“I know your body.”

She blinked, startled, and he rolled his eyes like, obviously not like that.

“I know how you move,” he clarified. “I know your rhythm. How fast you react when you start favoring one side. Your reach. Your weak spots.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Something’s off. It has been for the last month. You’re not moving the same. You’re overcompensating. Your staMyra’s tanked. You hesitate when you didn’t use to.”

Crow swallowed hard, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m not gonna force you to tell me shit,” he added. “But you’re terrible at hiding it. Whatever it is.”

She shook.

Her hand gripped the banister, tight enough that her knuckles went pale.

Then—she exhaled. Sharp. Shaking.

She reached into her coat, yanked her Codex free, and turned toward him. Its screen lit up immediately, pulsing with faint glyphs, some of them shifting like they were still rewriting themselves.

Without a word, she threw it at him.

He caught it with a grunt, frowning down at the device now pulsing faint gold and shadow.

“I’m going to sleep,” she said flatly. “You can find out just how quirky I am on your own time.”

Then she turned on her heel, walked up the stairs, and slammed the door behind her.

Leaving him alone in the dark hallway, Codex glowing faintly in his hands.